Counting Down to Midnight
by Brownbug
Summary: "Time was always running out, ticking down the minutes until midnight, the witching hour when the ball ends and all masks must come off.  My name is River Song and I was born to kill the man I love." Kiriban story for MayFairy.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or anything related to it - that is the BBC's privilege.**_

_**Summary: The events of the episode "Let's Kill Hitler" from River Song's point of view. Multi-chapter. Rated 'T', just in case.  
><strong>_

_**Author's Note: This is a kiriban story I have written for MayFairy, which I have owed her for (I'm guessing) over six months. Sorry it was such a long time coming and I hope you enjoy.**_

_**For those people who know of me and are wondering why I wrote this, the answer is simple - to try to prove that I can. Like fezzes, challenges are cool!**_

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><p><strong>CHAPTER ONE<strong>

_A wise man once said: "We all wear masks. And the time comes when we cannot remove them without removing some of our own skin."_

_I've hidden behind many masks in my life, been so many different things to so many different people. _

_Daughter. Secret weapon. Delinquent. Friend. Liar. Thief. Killer. Lover._

_But in the background, time was always running out, ticking down the minutes until midnight, the witching hour when the ball ends and all masks must come off._

_And so now, as the clock finally strikes twelve for me, I'm writing this in my TARDIS-blue journal, my little book of spoilers. The whole truth and nothing but the truth, no matter how much of my skin comes off in the process. Let all who read it judge me as they will._

_My name is River Song and I was born to kill the man I love._

_This is my story._

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><p>Speed.<p>

The exhilaration of it, the thrill, the complete and utter _rush_...

I slammed the accelerator to the floor with my high-heeled black boot and watched the speedometer dial quiver in response, leaping higher and higher. Sixty miles per hour...seventy...eighty...the danger was extreme now, the car fish-tailing madly down the quiet, narrow country road, fighting the iron control of my hands on the wheel. Just one slip, one tiny moment of lost concentration, and I would crash and burn. Opening my mouth, I whooped out loud, exulting in the sound of my own manic joy. I could feel the adrenaline charging wildly through my veins, my double heartbeat pounding in my ears.

Living life on the edge, taking every chance, every risk, savouring every moment, that's what it was all _about_.

The sleek, blood-red bonnet of the stolen Corvette seemed to glow in the hot, late-summer sunshine, the powerful engine purring like a kitten as I pushed it harder and harder. _God, I loved this car! _

At my back, sandwiched between my heated skin and the black leather upholstery, I could feel the hard, unyielding shape of the gun. I looked into the rear-vision mirror and smiled fiercely at my own reflection. Behind me, in the distance, I could hear the insistent braying of the police sirens, hot on my trail. But they wouldn't catch me, the incompetent pigs, not today.

Just up ahead, I saw the waving, green wall of corn stalks and my eyes narrowed. I knew exactly where they would be. They had been coming here to this field every day for a week, the two of them, carefully mapping out what they would do, how they would attract his attention. So wrapped up in what they were doing, so naive, so _careless_...they hadn't even noticed me following them. Intent on using their tiny orange Morris Minor to carve his name into the huge field of corn like some sort of bizarre, alien crop circle, a calling card that even _he _couldn't ignore.

_Amy Pond and Rory Williams._ In the eyes of the world, or at least to the little piece of it contained in Leadworth, they were my two very best friends. I had grown up alongside them, gone to school with them, gotten them into a thousand childhood scrapes, shared their every sorrow and their every joy.

But the truth? The incredible, bizarre truth that no-one would ever believe? Neither of them knew it - had never known it, throughout all the time I had spent with them - but Amy Pond and Rory Williams were my parents, the biological combination that had given me life. I, Mels, their so-called best friend, was in actual fact their lost daughter, Melody Pond. It had taken me a very long time to find them, to insert myself into their lives, to intertwine my destiny with theirs. Even now, even after all these years, I was unsure whether the bitter, twisted irony of the Universe made me want to laugh or to cry.

Not that it mattered, not really. My feelings were utterly irrelevant, my emotions insignificant in the grand scheme of things. Because, at the end of the day, my biological relationship to Amy and Rory would never be the most important thing about them. The most important thing about them was that, one day, they would lead me to my target. To _him_, the very reason for my existence.

There was _nothing_ more important than the mission. That fact had been burned repeatedly into my brain for as long as I could remember. Amy Pond might have given birth to me, but Madame Kovarian and the Silence had created me, shaped me and formed me, moulded me into the person I eventually became, for one reason only, for one single purpose. To prevent the question which must never be asked. To save the Universe and everything in it from total annihilation. And I would do it, whatever it took.

In my mind's eye, I could see from above the enormous letters emblazoned into the field of corn, shouting one word to the sky, the name that was not really his name. And, wrenching the wheel to the left, I blasted through the flimsy fence without even slowing down, smashing it into matchsticks as I careened the Corvette across the field, blazing a trail through the corn, intentionally slashing through the message they had left, straight down the middle like an arrow, flying straight and true to the bulls-eye.

The green stalks of corn slapped sharply against the windscreen, obscuring my vision, until at last the car burst through into a clearing, leaping forward with a roar like a crimson panther, at a speed so great that all four wheels nearly left the ground. The tall, blue shape loomed before me, standing in the centre of the flattened circle, like a vivid dream sprung to life. It was just as Amy had described it as we were growing up - just as she had drawn it, folded it from paper, sculpted it from clay, reproducing it obsessively every way she could, over and over again.

Slewing the Corvette around, I slammed on the brakes, piercingly aware of the three people shouting in fear and flinging themselves bodily out of my way. Timing it perfectly, I screeched to a halt, with the rear of the car just inches away from the blue police box.

Always one for a grand entrance, I threw open the door and stepped out of the car, standing with my feet wide apart, my hands on my hips. Off to one side, out of the corner of my eye, I could see Rory helping a shaken Amy to stand, both their mouths hanging open in shock. But, just for once, I had no interest in them. My attention was all for the man who sprawled at my feet in the dirt, the long, black silhouette of my shadow stretching threateningly across his still form. He looked up, shielding his eyes from the glaring sunlight behind me, trying to work out who I was. And, for the very first time, his blue-green gaze met mine, calm and unafraid, despite having been so nearly run down.

Strange eyes, those, I found myself thinking. Old eyes. Eyes that had seen the rise and fall of civilizations across a thousand galaxies. Eyes that did not belong in such a gorgeous young face.

Curiously, I stared down at him, unable to believe that - after waiting for what had seemed like an eternity - he was really here in front of me. _The Doctor_. The man whose existence threatened the entire Universe. The man I lived only to kill. My gaze assessed every one of his features and then moved on slowly down the length of his body.

"You said he was funny," I said in a clear voice. "You never said he was _hot_."

"Mels!" Rory exclaimed loudly, his tone completely outraged.

I nearly laughed out loud, the absolute surrealism of the moment going to my head like fizzy bubbles of champagne. Good old Dad! At that moment, he even sounded like the father he didn't know he was.

"What are you _doing_ here?" Amy added, her voice equally incredulous.

"Following you, what do you think?" I shrugged casually, my eyes still on the Doctor as he used the bonnet of the Corvette to pull himself upright.

"Ummmmmm," Rory said, speaking slowly and deliberately, obviously trying to keep his frustration in check. "Where...did you get...the car?"

I stroked the shiny red Corvette lovingly. "It's mine."

Police sirens wailed crazily in the distance, coming closer and closer. I grinned and tossed my dark hair over my shoulder. "...ish."

"Oh, Mels," Amy groaned. "Not again!"

"You can't keep doing this!" Rory expostulated. "You're going to end up in prison!"

"Sorry!" the Doctor interrupted in bewilderment, looking back and forth between the three of us like a spectator at a table-tennis match. Looking at me, he said politely, "Hello!" Then, turning rapidly back to Rory and Amy, he continued, " Doctor not following this. Doctor very lost. You never said I was hot?"

I felt my lips twitching in amusement at the disbelieving note in his voice. So...gorgeous _and_ a bit vain. Amy had been right. He _was_ funny. And sort of endearing, in a "just by being alive, I'm endangering the entire Universe" kind of way. Or maybe I was just getting a bit soft from spending so much time with Amy and Rory.

Reminding myself of my mission, I pointed at the tall, blue box. "Is that the phone box? The bigger-on-the-inside phone box?" I reached out to it and smoothed my hand down its rough wooden surface, caressing it in the same way as I had the Corvette, imagining the excitement of hurtling through time and space in such an unlikely vehicle. It felt surprisingly warm under my touch, almost...welcoming. "Time travel! That's just brilliant."

The Doctor moved to stand next to me, leaning against his ship and blocking the entrance in a way that was supposed to be casual, but which I correctly read as protective. I gave him a sultry smile.

"Oh yeah, I've heard a lot about you." I shot a teasing look over at Amy and Rory. "I'm their best mate."

"Then why don't I know you?" the Doctor asked suspiciously. "I danced with everyone at the wedding. The women were all brilliant. The men were...a bit shy."

"I don't do weddings," I replied, my attention shifting as the police sirens sounded again - much, much closer now. "And that's me out of time."

Moving smoothly, I pulled the gun free and aimed it straight at the Doctor's face.

"Mels!" Amy shrieked.

"For God's sake!" Rory yelled.

But I didn't falter, my gaze cold and threatening, the gun sitting comfortably in my hand like an old friend. Slowly, the Doctor raised his hands.

"What are you _doing_?" Amy entreated.

I smiled again. I had no intention of pulling the trigger. I knew better than to try to kill a Time Lord with a mere gun. Besides, explaining the mess to the police could prove to be...difficult.

_So then_, I thought cynically. _Let's just move this party to another, more convenient, venue._

"I need out of here..._now_!"

"Anywhere in particular?" the Doctor asked coolly.

"Well, let's see," I mused, running my eyes thoughtfully over the exterior of the TARDIS. "You've got a time machine. I've got a gun. What the hell – let's kill Hitler!"


	2. Chapter 2

**_Author's Note: Thanks to my two reviewers, MayFairy and iHadtoTry, cookies to both of you. And, what the hey, have some cream too ;)_**

**_Here's the next bit...  
><em>**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER TWO<strong>

So many memories of my parents...as children, as teenagers, as the adults they eventually became. It's completely bizarre, right? I mean, how many other people get to grow up alongside their own parents? Such a mismatched pair on the surface. But, beneath the surface – soul-mates.

Amy, my feisty, temperamental mother, with her long red hair and slender, willowy body. So passionate, so impetuous, so ready to rush in where angels fear to tread.

And Rory, my patient, dependable father, with his honest eyes and open face. Full of hidden strength, always willing to defend those he loved with everything he had.

If she was the raging sea, he was the immovable rock, complementing each other in every way. Perfectly imperfect, as the saying goes.

You would be forgiven for wondering how I felt about the two of them, given the strange circumstances. Did I love them, the only ones who - all unknowing - had ever given me any care or affection? Or did I hate them, for losing me in the first place, for not trying harder to hold on to me when I was a baby, for subjecting me to a childhood full of suffering? Or perhaps, having been raised as a psychopath, did I simply feel nothing at all? It was an interesting question.

My entire being was one hundred percent focused on the successful completion of my mission, there was no room for anything else. I had no concept or understanding of love whatsoever back then. But for years, my life had revolved around them – just Amy and Rory - as necessary to me as breathing. So I like to believe that counted as caring for them. But as parents? As friends? Or as pawns to be used, nothing but integral stepping stones to my ultimate goal? To be honest, I just didn't know. Whenever I thought about it, about them, the lines seemed to blur, so most of the time I just concentrated on living my life in the moment.

Because _he _was always there, right from the very beginning, standing between us, yet so central to our relationship. Poor little Amelia Pond. So wrapped up in her wonderful Raggedy Doctor – and the only ones who would listen to her were me and Rory. All the child counsellors they took her to, all the psychiatrists, all the medication they shovelled down her throat, determined to get her to admit he wasn't real. So much cruel teasing from her classmates, so much isolation and loneliness. Oh, it was _such _an easy ticket to her affection back then – I didn't even have to try. All I had to do was to say I believed her and she was my best friend for life. She never realised how much essential information she was passing on to me, each little nugget of data another nail in his slowly-forming coffin...

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><p><em>Sitting cross-legged on Amelia's bed, watching the small red-headed girl pretending to fly the model TARDIS around the room, her eyes bright with excitement and imagination.<em>

"_Is he hot?" I asked slyly._

"_No, he's funny," Amelia answered, always so serious about her Raggedy Doctor, completely missing the teasing innuendo in my voice._

_Leaning forward, my eyes suddenly intent now, as I watched the tiny blue box twirl around and around and around. "But how can he travel in time?"_

_Amelia looking at me as though I was incredibly thick. "Because he's got a time machine, stupid!_

_The door swinging abruptly open, startling both of us. Rory standing there, his face forlorn and downcast. "I thought we were playing hide and seek!" he whined at Amelia. "I've been hiding for hours."_

_A guilty look passing across her face, not wanting to admit she'd been so caught up in our conversation about the Doctor that she'd totally forgotten about Rory._

"_Well..." she said placatingly. "I just haven't found you yet."_

"_OK," Rory replied, his shoulders slumped as he headed back for the door, casting a long-suffering, sidelong look at me. "Hi, Mels."_

"_Hi, Rory," I returned, in exactly the same, flat tone._

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><p><em>Standing beside my desk in the classroom, my lower lip stuck out defiantly as the teacher questioned me.<em>

"_Mels! Did you not understand the question?" the woman pressed sharply. "I'm asking you why the Titanic sank!"_

_Rolling my eyes impatiently as I answered, "Because the DOCTOR didn't save it. But you don't know about the Doctor, because you're stupid."_

_Being sent to the Head Teacher's office yet again for another lecture on improving my attitude. Emerging with my ears still ringing, only to find Amelia waiting for me, her eyes glowing with incredulous gratitude that someone had actually stood up for her "imaginary" friend in front of a whole class full of people._

_My satisfied smile as she fell into step alongside me, following me up the corridor, her trust in me now assured, cementing the necessary alliance between us._

* * *

><p><em>Amelia walking beside me through the playground, ignoring the sniggers and taunts of the other kids, safe in the knowledge they wouldn't dare to victimise her while she was with me.<em>

"_Why are you always in trouble?" she asked, her tone half critical, half admiring. "You're the most trouble in the whole school, except for boys."_

"_And you," I grinned._

"_I count as a boy," she said wryly._

_Rory wandering past, a blindfold tightly wrapped around his head, still playing a game Amelia had abandoned half an hour ago to talk to me._

"_Am I getting warm?" he queried plaintively._

"_Yes, Rory," she sighed._

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><p><em>Years later, as teenagers, back in the classroom. Me, standing again, facing a male teacher this time.<em>

"_Mels?" the man prompted._

_Twiddling with one of my long dark plaits, my eyes on the ceiling, as I answered him in a bored monotone. "A significant factor in Hitler's rise to power was that the Doctor didn't stop him."_

_Another visit to the Head Teacher's office, another lecture and then finding Amelia patiently waiting for me outside in the corridor, just as she always was._

"_I can't keep doing this!" she warned._

_But I could see her eyes were still as full of secret gratitude as they had been that very first day._

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><p><em>An even older me, being ushered out of a police cell this time. And there she was, faithful Amy, hovering outside the door, always waiting. Always so very good at waiting.<em>

"_Mels!" she exclaimed furiously._

_Rory outside in the car, the two of them driving me home to Amy's house, itching to give me a lecture on my bad behaviour._

"_It was late, I took a bus," I told them, flopping down on Amy's bed, tossing the model TARDIS back and forth between my hands._

"_No, you STOLE a bus," Rory corrected, glaring at me from where he was seated on a nearby chair, his arms folded disapprovingly._

_Amy, much too agitated to sit, pacing up and down. "Who steals a BUS?" she demanded shrilly._

"_I returned it," I replied, completely unrepentant, still relishing the fun I'd had – as much fun as you could find in sleepy little Leadworth on a Sunday evening in June. That beautiful bright red bus, almost seeming to call my name...some vehicles just BEGGED to be stolen. I looked down with scorn at the tiny blue TARDIS in my hands. Red was always my favourite colour, the colour of risk and danger. SO much more exciting than blue. _

"_You drove it through the botanical garden," Rory reminded me._

"_Shortcut!" I laughed._

_Amy stalking towards me, her arms folded, just like the mother she never had a chance to be, about to tear a strip off her disobedient child. The laughter dying in my throat, the irony of it suddenly inexplicably painful._

"_Why can't you just act like a person? Hmmm? A normal LEGAL person?"_

_Finding the anger, deep inside me, using it to fight the pain. Anger at Amy. Anger at Rory. Anger at HIM._

"_I don't know!" I said bitterly. "Maybe I need a DOCTOR!"_

"_Stop it!" Amy snapped, her own temper flaring as she snatched the model TARDIS out of my hands and turned her back on me._

_When had she stopped believing? I wondered. When had she finally decided that he was a childhood fantasy, no more real than Santa Claus or the Easter Bunny? Was it when she had begun calling herself Amy rather than Amelia? Symbolically leaving the child behind, concentrating on growing up and fitting in, embracing her adulthood? It reminded me poignantly of that kid's song, "Puff the Magic Dragon", where the little boy grew up and didn't come to play with his imaginary dragon any more. So sad, that song - "A dragon lives forever, but not so little boys. Painted wings and giant rings give way to other toys..." Little Amelia Pond's dragon was real enough, but he wasn't going to live forever. Not if I could help it..._

_Rory, feeling the tension, the brewing argument, knowing how much Amy hated to remember her childhood obsession. Packing his books into his bag, standing to leave, making his excuses. "Er...I'd better go, I'm on earlies tomorrow."_

_Watching him walk to the door. My sweet, patient, loyal father. Loving her so much, for so long and so faithfully. And her never even having a clue. Even now, even when she said she no longer believed in him, her Raggedy Doctor was still the only man in the Universe to her, the only one that counted._

_Suddenly wanting to jab at her, shake her out of her complacency, make her realise what was right under her nose._

"_It's all right for you," I said to her. "You've got Mr Perfect keeping you right."_

"_He's not even real," she shot back, once again misunderstanding completely. "Just a stupid dream I had when I was a kid."_

"_I wasn't talking about him." Shooting a significant stare at Rory's back as he opened the door, a look that even she couldn't miss._

"_What, Rory?" she snorted, never even noticing the way he froze in the doorway, like a deer in headlights, as though he was holding his breath. "How have I GOT Rory?"_

"_Yeah," he said nervously, turning around to face us. "Yeah, how...how's she got me?"_

"_He's not mine," Amy continued._

"_No..." Rory agreed, looking at the floor. "No...I'm not hers."_

"_Oh, come on! Seriously, it's got to be you two!" Blank looks from both of them. Impatience stirring in my veins. Was this how it had to be? Me, match-making my own incredibly slow parents? The Universe certainly had a twisted sense of humour. "Oh, cut to the song, it's getting boring!"_

_Amy's condescending smile. "Nice thought, OK? But completely impossible."_

_Rory, trying to hide the hurt look on his face. "Yeah. Impossible."_

"_I mean, I'd love to, he's gorgeous," Amy qualified quickly, patting him reassuringly on the back. "He's my favourite guy. But he's...you know."_

"_A friend," Rory inserted in a dull voice._

"_Gay," Amy said simultaneously._

_Lounging back on the bed with a smile, watching the scene unfold. Amy's sweet, understanding look. Rory's stunned double-take, just as good as a play and twice as amusing._

"_I'm not gay!" he protested._

"_Yes, you are," she answered firmly._

"_No. No, I'm not."_

"_Course you are! Don't be stupid! In all the time I've known you, when have you ever shown the slightest interest in a girl?"_

"_Penny in the air," I whispered, a bubble of laughter working its way up from my chest. Oh, come ON, Mother! Nobody could be this blind!_

_But apparently Amy could. "I've known you for, what? Ten years? I've seen you practically every day. Name one girl you've paid the SLIGHTEST bit of attention to?"_

_Rory looking at her helplessly, his heart in his eyes, unable to answer. A swirl of movement as he whirled around and ran from the room. The laughter finally bursting out of my mouth as her eyes meet mine, shocked to the very core._

"_Oh my God!" she cried, running through the door. "Rory!"_

"_And the penny drops!" I smirked, hearing her chasing down the hall after him, knowing everything was coming together just as it should. All roads leading to Rome. All events linking together, one by one, in an unbreakable chain, until the day when my purpose would be achieved._

_Jumping to my feet, tossing the model TARDIS carelessly back on to the bed, imagining a tiny Doctor tumbling helplessly around inside it. _

"_Catch you later!" I mocked. "Time Boy!"_

* * *

><p>"<em>Oh, Mels, where have you been? You missed everything! I was never crazy after all! He's real! He's really, really real!"<em>

_Amy, almost dancing around the room in excitement, bubbling over with joy, the model TARDIS hugged tightly to her chest._

"_He came back for me. And I'll see him again, I just know it!"_

_Keeping my face smooth with an effort, not letting her see the emotions churning inside me. It had been hard, so very hard, to keep myself hidden while he was in Leadworth, sorting out Prisoner Zero. So hard it almost hurt. I ached to complete my mission. But the time was not right. He was not the only one to understand the causal nexus. Amy had to travel with him in his TARDIS, or I would never be born. And so I allowed events to take their course, knowing my time would come._

"_Mels, I just wish you could have met him!" Amy cried wistfully._

"_Oh, I will, Amy," I responded with a tight smile. "Believe me, one day I will."_

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><p>Holding the gun steady, I watched them troop one by one into the TARDIS, just as three police cars screamed to a halt nearby, sirens wailing madly and lights flashing.<p>

Laughing with elation, I blew the police a cheeky kiss, before disappearing into the time machine myself.

Because this was _my_ day. This was the day I had been training for all my life. This was the day I saved the Universe and earned my freedom.

This was the day I would kill the Doctor.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thanks to the following people for reviewing the previous chapter – MayFairy, Aietradaea, EmmaMarie, Trindajae, KlinicallyInsaneKoschei and Son of Whitebeard.**

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><p><strong>CHAPTER THREE<strong>

"You've shot it!" the Doctor yelled, his voice managing to be both furious and incredulous at the same time. "You've shot my TARDIS! You've _shot _the console!"

I was clinging for all I was worth to the railing around the glass console platform, holding on with one hand, my smoking gun in the other, while the TARDIS bucked and whirled wildly. All the lights were madly flashing on and off, while huge gouts of steam and putrid wafts of smoke erupted from the damaged controls. Amy and Rory were hanging off the other side of the console, desperately trying to keep their balance.

I wasn't even sure how it had happened. I was an expert with weapons of every sort. It had all been part of my training from childhood, when I was forced to practice over and and over again, until I was absolutely flawless. Melody Pond, the ultimate killer, the perfect assassin. So how was it possible that I had lost control of my gun as soon as I entered the TARDIS? How had I managed to unintentionally fire a bullet directly into the console casing, causing the TARDIS to careen uncontrollably through the Time Vortex?

Amongst all the confusion, I felt soft, gentle laughter brushing the back of my mind. Startled, I glanced around at the panicked faces of my companions – certainly no laughter there. A cold chill worked its way up my spine. It was weird...if I hadn't known any better, I would have thought that the TARDIS herself...but no, that was ridiculous. The TARDIS was only a ship. A magnificent, wonderful ship, to be sure, but just a ship. She wasn't _alive_. She couldn't be manipulating the situation. I was letting all the chaos get to me. I had to pull myself together, right now.

"It's _your_ fault!" I shrieked at the Doctor, as he stumbled around the console, frantically working the controls.

"ARRGGGH!" he shouted into my face, his expression one of sheer exasperation. "How's it my fault?"

"_You _said guns didn't work in this place," I retorted, reasonably enough in my opinion, because he had said that very thing. "_You_ said we were in a state of temporal grace!"

The Doctor grabbed a lever and sawed it back and forth, with no discernible effect on the shuddering TARDIS whatsoever.

"That was a clever lie, you idiot!" he snapped. "_Anyone_ could tell that was a clever lie!"

Despite his anger and the looming crash landing, I couldn't help noticing the way his hair was flopping into his eyes like a little kid as he wrestled with the controls. Damn, but he was attractive, there was no denying it. _Time and place, Mels, _I told myself sternly, pulling my eyes away from him. After all, this was the man I was here to kill, assuming any of us survived this, which right now wasn't at all certain. _Time and place!_

Instead of slowing, the shaking of the TARDIS intensified, the internal dimensions seeming to warp in and out in a sickening fashion. I closed my eyes, struggling not to throw up. The Doctor was still yelling unintelligibly – _God, did the man ever shut up?_ - and I could hear Amy screaming.

Suddenly, there was an enormous crash, as though we had collided with a mountain. All the breath was crushed out of my lungs and every one of my bones felt like it had been jolted out of place. The TARDIS came to a dead stop and the lights blinked out, leaving the console room in total darkness, apart from the spectacular fountain of sparks cascading from the central console. Thick, choking smoke billowed around me everywhere, the acrid smell hacking at my throat and bringing tears to my eyes.

"OUT!" the Doctor roared. "GET OUT!"

Amy and Rory fumbled their way down the stairs to the exterior doors, coughing harshly as they went. The Doctor seized me by the wrist, his grip surprisingly strong, almost bruising, as he snatched me away from the railing and hauled me along after them.

"Out, out, out!" he ordered again, forcibly thrusting me ahead of him through the doors. "Everybody out! Don't breathe the smoke! Just get out!"

Gasping for breath, I doubled over, trying to clear my airways of the foul smoke. However, like any well-trained assassin, my brain was already leaping ahead, scanning my immediate surroundings. The mission always came first, no matter what. That was the very first thing I had ever learned and I was hardly likely to forget it now. We appeared to be in a huge room, with high, vaulted ceilings and walls panelled in a dark wood. The floor was made of cold marble, laid out in enormous black and white squares. Shattered glass was sprinkled everywhere – it appeared the TARDIS had smashed her way through one of the large plate-glass windows. But most significant of all were the huge scarlet floor-to-ceiling banners which hung in the room, each emblazoned with a black cross with broken arms, one of the most hated and feared symbols in human history.

_Swastikas, _I thought, recalling with horror my throwaway comment back in the wheat field about killing Hitler. _No...no, surely not..._

"Where are we?" Amy gasped, falling to her knees in the dust and broken glass and coughing as if she was about to bring her lungs up any second.

"A room," the Doctor responded, holding a red silk handkerchief over his mouth and nose to screen out the smoke.

"_What _room?" Rory demanded hoarsely, his arm protectively around Amy.

"I don't know!" the Doctor said, his voice irritable and almost petulant. "I haven't memorised every room in the Universe. I had yesterday off!"

Again, I heard the soft laughter in the back of my mind. This time, I had no doubt the mental voice was coming from the TARDIS. Spinning around, I grasped the door-frame to support myself and stared back into the smoke-filled interior. _What was she doing? Why had she brought us here? _And the sound of her laughter – it was almost fond, almost forbearing, as if she _knew_ me and everything that I was.

But before I could make any sense of it, the Doctor was there, pulling me roughly away from the door. "Mels, don't go in there!" he snapped, taking advantage of my momentary inattention to snatch the gun out of my hand.

"Oi!" I protested hotly, more annoyed with myself than I was with him. What kind of an assassin was I? I had to stop allowing all these weird and unexpected events to catch me off guard. The mission! The mission was what counted! I had to stay focused. Fortunately, the gun had already served its purpose and was no longer essential. Now I just had to make sure I followed the rest of my plan.

"Bad smoke!" the Doctor exclaimed, slamming the door of the time machine shut with an emphatic bang. "Don't breathe the bad, bad smoke. Bad, deadly smoke, _because somebody shot my TARDIS!_"

This last was said with a furious glare aimed directly at me. I gave him a cheeky, unapologetic grin and cautiously edged away from him through the smoke that was still wafting through the air. Fortunately, at that moment, Rory and Amy distracted his attention. They were crouched on the floor beside the body of what appeared to be a middle-aged man with small, round glasses. He was dressed in a smart grey uniform, trimmed with red, and was lying flat on his back.

Rory was leaning over him, his fingers professionally placed against his neck, obviously looking for a pulse.

"Doctor, this guy, I think he's hurt."

The Doctor came towards them, the gun held awkwardly in his hand. He looked down at it and shifted uncomfortably, as if he didn't like touching it, but didn't quite know what to do with it either.

"No, hang on," Rory amended with some surprise, as the man began to stir. "No...no, he's...fine."

Apparently frustrated at having to hold the gun, the Doctor wandered over to a nearby desk and shoved the weapon into a fruit bowl, where it sat looking incongruous in amongst the bananas and apples and grapes. At that moment, the man who had been sheltering behind the desk chose to rise shakily to his feet.

"Oooh, hello!" the Doctor said cheerfully. "Sorry...is this your office? Had a sort of collision with my vehicle. Fault's on both sides, we'll say no more about..."

And then the man turned and we were all able to see exactly who it was. Dark brown hair, neatly parted and slicked across from right to left; piercing dark brown eyes; a small, rectangular moustache; upright military carriage, as stiff and straight as a poker; wearing the distinctive khaki uniform of the Third Reich, decorated with symbols of rank.

"...it," the Doctor finished lamely, licking his suddenly dry lips, his eyes as wide as saucers.

Stunned, Amy and Rory rose to their feet and came to stand one on each side of the Doctor, both of them gazing at the man facing them as if they had seen a ghost.

"Is that...?" Amy whispered. "No. No...it can't be, Doctor?"

"Thank you," Hitler said in a heavily accented voice. "Whoever you are, I think you have just saved my life."

"Believe me," the Doctor muttered, still staring in shocked dismay. "It was an accident."

Hitler's eyes moved past him and settled on the TARDIS. "What is this thing?" he demanded, marching around from behind his desk and heading curiously towards the time machine.

Amy clutched convulsively at the Doctor's arm. "What did he mean, we just saved his life?" she demanded in a fierce undertone. "We could _not _have saved Hitler."

The Doctor took a deep breath and spun around angrily on me. "You _see_?" he said accusingly. "Time travel! It never goes to plan!"

I didn't bother to answer. After all, he had a point, this was...sort of...my fault, depending how you looked at it. But there was absolutely zero chance of me admitting that, to him of all people. So instead I just shrugged and rolled my eyes as annoyingly as I could.

"This box..." Hitler interjected, running his hands over the outside of the TARDIS. "What is it?"

The irate Time Lord turned around slowly, as if he was exerting all his self-control not to start throwing punches. "It's a police telephone box, from London, England!" he said tightly. "That's right, Adolf. The British are coming!"

Just then, the man Rory had found stretched out on the floor managed to climb to his feet behind the Doctor.

"Stop him!" Hitler yelled. Without warning, the German leader drew his side-arm and began firing his pistol wildly over the Doctor's shoulder, aiming at the other man. The Doctor ducked and I heard Rory shouting, before everything else was drowned out by the roaring sound of gunfire.

At first it felt like someone had hit me in the stomach hard. Caught by surprise, I doubled over, clutching at my abdomen, not quite sure what had happened. _I'm winded_, I thought. _Something hit me and I'm winded. I'll be all right in a minute._ But then the pain began, searing, burning, flaying me alive from the inside out.

_This wasn't meant to happen. This wasn't part of the plan!_

And under my hand, I felt the warm, sticky fluid starting to flow and I knew it was blood.


End file.
